Know thy enemy.
In playing around with the concepts of “The Tao of Medicine,” I came up with a realization about something that isn’t well defined, as far as I can tell.
I can’t tell if I’m just horsing around, or whether I have something serious to say about this concept I’ve called the Wu.
In reading up about Tao (and De, another allied concept,) I came up with this idea of “the Wu.”
First off – skeptics and debunkers of the phony world of telekinesis and spoon-bending and such, talk about the “woo.” Some of the stage magicians, experts such as Penn Jillette, talk about the schtick, the deception that goes along with the whole challenge of mis-direction and confusion needed to set up a stage trick. The term “woo” would fit right in to describe a magician’s patter.
It comes from the slang “woo-woo,” the illusion of a wizard’s incantation before pulling a rabbit out of a hat, or some such trick. Woo-woo indeed – the essential mystic pattern of the magical spell, utterly irrelevant to pulling off the trick, but there to distract the audience.
Thanks, JK Rowling, for the many spells in the Harry Potter series! She’s quite the language expert, and spins together cute and clever phrases with some deeper meaning. But not magic.
So, I got thinking about the pretentious and the bratty, the arrogant and the puffed-up and self-impressed and self-deluded vanities and pundits and sycophants of today’s world, especially the World of Medicine. Donald Trump must go to the grotto of the Doctor of Oz for serious talk about healthcare. Hooray!
In fact, the whole dialogue about the Health of the Candidates seems to me hilarious. What are their mystic secrets? Who has the third nipple?
Thus, we needed a word that was itself puffed-up and jargony, in talking about bullshit. Thus was born the Wu, an ancient concept that I concocted about two weeks ago. Remember that as I write more about it. It’s a PIROMA phenomenon – pulled it right out my ass. It’s not only amusing, but it also has its own trails into the more serious world than just poking fun at itself.
It lends itself to solemn aphorisms, such as:
Whatever is written about the Wu, becomes the Wu.
Obviously, whatever you write seriously about nonsense – or at least in a manner that looks serious – just adds to the rubbish pile. It’s a tar baby. Obviously, with the additive principle, since “the Wu is immense, greater than the dark energy in the universe,” then the Wu is, as Donald might say, HUGE.
Whatever is not the Tao, belongs to the Wu.
That’s pretty heady, and a little less hilarious. Whatever’s not on the path is part of the bullshit, in the way that whatever’s not part of the solution is part of the problem, thanks Black Panthers, thanks Huey Lewis. Ward Cleaver. Eldridge Cleaver. Huey Newton. Cam Newton. One of those guys.
Anyhow, an example is the practice of medicine. I haven’t gotten into the Tao of Medicine, but it’s got a lot of harmony and balance to it. It’s all about the good in medicine. But what’s outside that is all Wu energy. Billing, coding, CPT, ICD-10, auditing, drug-seeking, horseshit. Everything that is not on the path of harmony, is on the path of disharmony.
Charley Don’t Surf.
This insanity’s from apocalypse now, when the commander discovered that one of his men was a world-class surfer. He then insisted upon taking a coastal town with beautiful, one-of-a-kind surf, to watch the enlisted man surf. The town was taken in a raid; clearly people on the ground would have been injured, killed. It was necessary to take the town because “Charley Don’t Surf.” (Charley, or Victor Charlie, was the radio code for Viet Cong, the enemy in Vietnam)
Any insanity for incomprehensible purpose, including surfing, that kills people too, gets me thinking that Charley Don’t Surf. Hence, “Surf the Wu.”